


Royal Blush

by Book_of_Kells



Series: Arda Club [2]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Day 6: reluctant royalty, F/M, Fígrid February, Modern Royalty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-18 19:31:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5940469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Book_of_Kells/pseuds/Book_of_Kells
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An island in the sea of chaos..</p>
            </blockquote>





	Royal Blush

**Author's Note:**

> But if you like causing trouble up in hotel rooms  
> And if you like having secret little rendezvous  
> If you like to do the things you know that we shouldn’t do  
> Then baby, I'm perfect  
> Baby, I'm perfect for you
> 
> ~One Direction - Perfect ~

It had been a few days since their little card game.

A few days for him to find _his_ game after he lost the hand to the three amigos she pulled on the river. Then, of course, the gentleman’s room got really crashed by the pink party. Troops of sparkly women in swaths of chiffon, lace and silk ran through the hall like runners in front of the bulls in Pamplona. Fili watched her get carried off in a hail of glowing accolades as the others praised her out the door. The blooded quality and other men of the Arda club stood around in collective stupidity at how badly they got played.

The house party continued through the days that followed, everyone in a different state of inebriation. The Ladies, young and old, had gotten brave once or twice to whistle at him or discreetly grab at his package in the buffet line when no one was looking. One old grand duchess tried to run her talons through his thick shoulder length blond hair, Fili decided he wasn’t hungry anymore. The supposedly prim and proper females had decided that he was still blueblooded enough to brave a scandal despite his commoner father. Princesses weren’t supposed to be a person that way, never supposed to be anywhere near a penis she wasn’t married to. No matter what Sigrid said about the women finding satisfaction outside of their marriage bed, the royals hated it when paternity was questioned.

Standing along the cliff’s edge, Fili could see the women already draped over loungers around the Olympic sized swimming pool with a stunning mosaic scene of mountains and green hills at the bottom. White coated staff hurried to bring refreshments, towels, anything the over pampered exiled might want. Looking at the faces of the over-exercised, extremely botoxed and tan, he didn’t spot the female that he was dying to talk to amongst them.

Looking up the side of the house, Fili wondered if he should go searching for her. She had given him no indication of real interest beside some sly innuendos. Blue eyes squinted at third level of the main house, lost in thought as he leaned against the railing. The Italianate main house comprised of suites for the big names, his uncle Thorin, the deposed King of Gondor, and others. The rest or lesser family took residence along the estate in private cottages with excellent views and sound proof walls. The bungalows littered the estate, with a royal occupant in each with full concierge service. Gandalf had gone out of his way for everyone to take a private taste of what they missed most as being the King of whatever hill.

Fili and Kili bunked with their cousins, Dain and Dwalin who was acting as their security chief. Although, his brother had of late being wandering the other side of the compound in search of a redhead that had him waxing poetic. Or waxing pathetic because Kili’s technique needed serious help. After bunking with those yahoos for the way too long and no sign of the pretty new princess from Dale, Fili decided to get out and try the local markets.

His mother was home in Ered Luin just outside of Swansea, watching over their assets. He and Kili always loved bringing her something home just to see her smile. The Princess Dis had abdicated her place in Erebor’s succession upon her marriage but Thorin had named Fili, Crown Prince with Kili as the spare. After their vicious ejection from Erebor, the royal siblings had settled in Wales under the kindness of the British Royal Family. Their grandfather’s investments in the mining industry in Wales, gave them a place to go when the Russian Generals Azognoff and Drago invaded their home.

Fili, needing distance from the covetous women, stopped by the cottage to grab his wallet and pick up his cell. The khaki shorts and white tshirt were appropriately casual on the warm day, clean and non-descript. He wasn’t trying to be noticed, went out of his way to keep a low key life. Too many of the Arda Club found themselves on the bad end of a camera phone on more than one occasion. It didn’t endear any of them to their former subjects if the prince in the wings was photographed with a bong in one hand and his junk in another. Faramir was never going to live that down.

Their bungalow was on the north side of the property, it had three bedrooms with ensuite baths. A kitchenette for the basics that opened into a spacious living room. When Fili entered, he found Dain passed out on the couch and Dwalin with his computers open at the dining table against the long wall of windows. His netbook and laptop where sitting side by side with one running a backup program and the other was a cascade of open internet windows.

“Where’n ya off to?” The bald man asked as he typed but didn’t look up. The black wife beater looked miniscule on his large chest.

“Going to the markets to pick up something for Mam.” Fili called as he walked into his room for his things but curled his lip when he heard a particularly loud fart from Dain. “Need anything?”

He waited for ‘air freshener’ to come back to him but nothing did. Fili grabbed his wallet but flinched back a step when he turned to see Dwalin taking up the doorway. He hadn’t heard him move nor did the big man give any indication that he was right behind. Obviously working for the British SAS was a perk in scaring your cousin.

Fili sneered at him when he picked up his sunglasses. “How about some notice? I might have just peed a little!”

Dwalin gave him the same dead pan expression, his meaty hands gripping the door. “I was just going to say, I think it you’re a good lad to always think of your Mam.”

He looked like a tall shadow against the creamy walls. The pastel colored theme of the bedroom looked anemic beside black cargo pants, black tank top, and in his bare feet if those stunted little weenies could be called toes. Tattoos rippled along his pecs and arms as hands clinched at the door frame. He was taller than Fili but most were save Dain and his mother. Dwalin was the living personification of menacing but Fili had a memory of him in pointy birthday hats so it wasn’t all bad.

“I’m not taking Dain.” Fili went to brush by him but Dwalin held firm. The blond got an up close and personal of his view of Dwalin’s clenching jaw.

“Your brother slipped him something and he has been snoring and farting for the last hour.” Dwalin growled.

“Go find Thorin and let Dain sleep it off.”

Fili tried to brush by him again only to be put off. Dwalin was being to snort like an enraged bull, it was cute in a psycho sort of way. It was all the blond could do to stop the smile that pulled at his lips but seeing the squint on Dwalin Fundinson’s face, Fili hadn’t been very successful. No one wanted Dain to be left to his own devices. He had a thoughtless habit of losing his mental filter at all the wrong moments.

“Do you want to get throw out? Dain won’t be out long. Besides, Thorin has an agenda that doesn’t require me standing over his shoulder. Your brother, it seems, didn’t want competition while he stalks that redhead.”

Dwalin was getting up a head of steam to continue his complaints when his cellphone rang with the Mission Impossible theme. As soon as he leaned away, Fili shot through the opening to head to the door. A roar behind him advised him to put on more speed as a brush of fingers at the nap just missed his shirt collar as he ran.

“I’ll bring you a hat!” Fili yelled as Dain switched a little on the couch. Damn, Fili thought, Kili really gave him something harsh!

Flagstone path was darker than the bleached rock lawn covered in scrub grass. Gandalf had brought in dirt to cover the rock in several areas to create a lawn but he hadn’t managed to get this far. The front of the house that faced the road was a beautiful sea of verdant green with small islands of bone white rock popping from the verge like the tentacles of a Kraken. Topiaries lined the intersections with discreet solar lights nestled at the bases. It was beautiful here, calm and serene. A perfect hideaway for those who had a jet set lifestyle.

At the base of the path beyond the massive garage, several servants sat in over padded golf carts. A few guests milled to one side, discussing some infrastructure issues in a German factory. Fili recognized Lord Elrond of Rivendell talking to a Hanoverian Princess. Fili smiled at both though the Princess’ gaze lingered more than might be excusable.

“Going my way?” A soft voice floated in his hear, causing Fili to turn towards its owner.

He was immediately snared in a pair of smiling eyes, shadowed by the brim of a floppy straw hat. Taking a step back to see all of her, Fili still felt their pull like he was suddenly a wiggling fish in a net. The breeze blew off the ocean, sweeping fine grit into a tornado around them. Exclamations from the others were far from his thinking as he gazed at the pretty blond. In the bronze dress, she had captivated him but in this pumpkin orange sundress, she charmed him. Golden skin, a warm tone that reflected vitality and youth bared itself to his heated attention. The bouncing swing of her hips gave of the same energy as her smile. In one word, _happiness_.

Fili found his tongue, though rolling it back into his mouth was a problem. “Well, pretty princess, I am if you are going to the market.”

The smile never strayed only brightened wider than a sunbeam. “I am! I wanted to get some pictures.” She turned to the taller specter at her back. “Tauriel, could you text Bain?”

Fili watched the redhead wearing a fedora and non-descript shorts and a shirt, turn away and pull out a phone. The flash at her wrist was momentary but he was able to catch the image on the redhead’s pale skin before she finished the message and put the phone away. There was a slight bulge at her waist that he could only assume was a gun. When Sigrid stepped into the back of the next golf cart, Tauriel took the front seat beside the driver with a clear indication of going along.  

Awkward, he thought as he took the seat beside Sigrid in the back, but not impossible. As a bodyguard or security specialist, it was her job to keep Sigrid alive, not boss her around. Sigrid kept going a long stream of chatter that asked Fili little but told him everything about the blond. Being with another member of their ‘club’ allowed Sigrid to relax and he could see tension endless slip from her shoulders as the strain of who she was melted away. It was the best kept reason to come to Gandalf’s, he let the royals be people again, to let their hair down so to speak, without fear of the world finding out that royalty were really people. Human.

Unable to keep himself quiet on the subject of the card game, Fili sat back as the driver kept them at a sedate twenty mph on the narrow goat path to the outer reach of the Spanish city. “I’m curious why you crashed the party. It had to be more than a bet.”

Sigrid’s lips tightened a little, her beautiful smile dipping at the edges. “Shake up the establishment. Have you not noticed it is the same narrow people, the same mindless chatter.”

The cart hit a pot hole, jostling them in the backseat. Tauriel must have seen it because was braced against the windshield’s side with her other hand low on her hip. Her face was turned in his direction just a little as if to gauge his reaction. The shiny black sunglasses protected her eyes but hid her thoughts from him. He saw the driver discreetly hand her a card with the house number for pick up with they decided to leave.

“You don’t like being royalty?” Fili asked as he turned back to the princess who was staring across him to the coast line beyond.

It was a testament of her beauty that Fili had no interest in the picturesque setting, not the rocky outcroppings that lead to Old Town nor fascinating topography of the island’s coastline. Normally, he was all for gazing out into the Mediterranean with wild imaginings layered over the azure horizons of Barbary pirates, and Christians on crusade. Not now, Sigrid was witty with a varied thought process that left him eager for the next comment.

“It was unexpected. Princess Sophie of some place or other said she could still smell the cabbage on my skin rather than a cabbage rose.” Sigrid looked solemn with a little of the upcountry accent lacing her words. “A lot of it, I didn’t bargain for or know was coming.”

They arrived at Old Town Ibiza with it’s Moorish bazaar of varied delights. The stalls were open in the large ruins of the old castle’s courtyard. Canvas tents of different construction crowded together offering samples as the owners bickered back and forth for the entertainment of the buyers. It was mostly food stuffs, fish from the early morning catches off the point. Valencia oranges, dates from Morocco shouldered against bunches of grapes of all types. There was the odd stall of fine linen with the most delicate embroidery. On impulse, Fili brought Sigrid some handkerchiefs with golden roses stitched at a corner. She demurred at first, her shock evident at the gift. But the ‘thank you’ left him warm and the soft fingertips on his chin and neck made him hotter still.

The dangling worm between him legs tried to stretch out and say hello but ending up howling at the restriction of his cotton briefs. Sigrid’s hand trembled a little, he felt the butterfly brush of her nails as she snatched back her hand. She swallowed nervously, licking her lips as she took step back. Attraction hummed along his skin, making him wish for mad and crazy slick moments where Sigrid touched him like she owned him. Through the whole exchange, Tauriel said nothing. She watched everyone and everything, looking for the stray glance that might be a threat. She blatantly ignored the two awkward humans who bumped into each other with virgin excitement.

“Your ancestor was Girion? Right?” Fili searched for something to say when she withdrew, anything to keep her talking and please god, touching him. “I think the princess must have been envious that your country wanted you again. So many of them long to go home but honestly, where is that? I have never been to Erebor, my brother and I were born in Wales. We’ll probably never see the land our great grandfather ruled. A lot of these people just like to pretend for a little while that they are important to something.”

A few of the Arda club mixed quietly in the thongs, together but apart. You could pick them out by the flash of disgust on their face that the large Prada sunglasses couldn’t hide. The moue of the pout, or the crinkling around the nose at some child who stepped too close. These people lived so far removed from reality they didn’t understand that the Never Ever land where they lived was why they didn’t rule more than a pile of crumbling rock.

“Maybe, she is. My Da wants to move towards a constitutional monarchy in about ten years.” Sigrid told him as she looked at some glass sculptures of lighting stuck sand.

Fili followed at a distance, trying not to crowd her. She was such a pleasure to watch. “That’s smart. But what about you? You don’t seem to like the idea of being a princess. In this day and age, you could have been a crown princess instead of letting it go to your brother.”

Several monarchies that existed still had gotten with the 21st century to not put the heavy emphasis on males. Fili was glad that the gender was becoming more balanced rather than the same outdated mode of males first then the females. Sigrid would do well in any endeavor she chose whether it was in support of Dale or in some other capacity.

“I didn’t want the job. Bain doesn’t either really after what happened.” She didn’t look at him as her shoulders hunched with tension and distress. “Guys I dated started coming forward with tales of what Princess Sigrid was like in the sack. One guy I went on two dates with photoshopped a bunch of supposed nudes I posed for. My Da was livid. He hadn’t bargained on our lives getting torn apart by people looking for fifteen minutes of fame.”

It was a hard thing, being suddenly noteworthy.   Fili hadn’t had that problem, not really. His family lived in a quiet enclave with distant family and some of the people who escaped with them when Erebor fell. They had made a good life in Ered Luin, a life worth having. If they went back to Erebor in any capacity, Ered Luin would always feel like home to him.

“Is that how you have a Greenwood specialist as a bodyguard? For the stalkeratzi?” Fili smiled when Sigrid glanced sidelong at him. “I recognize the leaf tattoo on the inside of her wrist.”

Sigrid took a moment to snap a picture of the far point in the distance, a cliff of darker stone wet with sea spray. She didn’t speak as she stepped out of the crowd’s path to line up the shot as if she was gauging an appropriate response. Fili had loved taking pictures when they first started coming here, now after so many years the newness had faded leaving him without the awe. He could see this place again through Sigrid, the bright colors, fascinating people, and be excited all over again. Thorin would do what he did to try and get back this throne but for today, Fili was enjoying himself.

“King Thranduil of Lasgalen is an investor in Dale. My Da told him of some of the press.” Sigrid smiled in Tauriel’s direction about two feet away. “Tauriel has been great though.”

Fili knew the name, knew the family. They were heavily invested in Ireland with a few forays in Canada. Lasgalen was a section of islands in the Hebrides that had long passed back into the English hands, though Thranduil still put on his airs like he sat on purple cushions somewhere. Whatever throne he occupied had crumpled a thousand years ago. The idea of this gorgeous creature snuggling up with that particular prince left Fili cold.

“I have an idea.” Fili told her as he placed a hand on her back to steer her towards a small deli. “How about for the rest of the day, you will be just Sigrid and I will be just Fili? No titles, no names, just two people with a few things in common.”

“I’d like that. There are days, I _need_ that.” She was as honest as one person could be to another and he wanted to warn her never to be so open with the Arda club. They had a habit of tearing into the ones they thought were vulnerable.

The pair found a deli open just outside the markets. They sat for a while, eating roast chicken sandwiches and drinking wine. The conversation flowed with the constant snap of Sigrid’s camera in the background as she twisted this way or that for a good picture. Fili watched her with the same attention as she did the locals, excitement but with a splash of nerves that for him was an anomaly. He wasn’t so jaded by his life that he couldn’t expect rejection. He knew he was handsome but also handsome with a title. Neither of those would mean anything to Sigrid.

The princess looked sharply at the waiter who brought the bill, making Fili curse when he saw the time. “They are closing up for siesta.”

She looked confused as he pulled his wallet and handed some cash to the man for their tab. He took her hand, pulling her to her feet. “Most of Old Town closes for siesta between 1 pm and 5. I didn’t realize that it was so late.”

Nodding, she took the lead as they walked down the street to leave the markets. The crowds had long since thinned down to a small stream of people, going home for a nap to stay up most of the night and into the next morning. Sigrid stopped at the front of a hotel that might have been a mission at some point a few centuries ago, taking pictures of different points of the architecture. The sloped lines of the top were simple like the curve of Sigrid’s back under his hand. The idea of her nude on the crisp linen sheets upstairs wouldn’t leave him alone.

Taking a chance, he stepped closer to whisper in her ear. “If you weren’t a princess, I would ask you spend the siesta with me.”

Her whole body stilled at his daring, sending a jolt of fear to the pit of his stomach. Slowly, achingly slow, Sigrid turned to him with a quiet expression. Her cheeks might have been pink but against the orange of her dress, it gave her a sunburned hue.  Every freckle she might have ever thought about having popped up brown against her blushing skin.

“But I’m not a princess, remember? I’m just Sigrid and you are _just_ Fili.”

The emphasis made Fili smile but it was nothing compared to the grin on his lips when Sigrid took his hand and led him into the hotel.

**Author's Note:**

> Naughty Sigrid ! lol..
> 
> Thanks so much for reading! I do love the Modern AUs and this was so much fun to write!
> 
> I do not own this or anything related to works by JRRT.. I just love playing with the characters lol.


End file.
